


Attempting Sanity

by Id_flyifihad_wings



Series: Attempting [2]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Abuse, Angry Dean Winchester, Angst, Bruises, Cas is a sex toy, Crowley and Dean Winchester's Summer of Love, Dean is a dick, Emotional/Psychological Abuse, Emotionally Hurt Castiel (Supernatural), Hurt Castiel, Manipulation, Multi, Not Beta Read, Not Canon Compliant, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Rowena is helpful, Sad Sam Winchester, Sad with a kinda happy ending, Sadism, Threesomes, Torture, Violence, more tags to come, sorry - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-12-06
Updated: 2018-12-06
Packaged: 2019-09-13 01:29:17
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,003
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16883025
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Id_flyifihad_wings/pseuds/Id_flyifihad_wings
Summary: With Dean Winchester leaving devastation in his wake and Crowley close behind, Sam and Castiel have no choice but to save the newfound demon.  Behind his pretty face is something far more sinister than any of them realize though, and there is only one who can fix the mess.Will Dean be saved before it's too late, or will everything they have worked so hard for crumble?(A 30 Day Writing Challenge. Each day is based on a word or phrase, with the added challenge of me combining the chapters to create a flowing story.  Also a continuation of Attempting Life.)**Despite this being a 30 day writing challenge, I likely will be unable to post a new chapter daily.  I will try to post as often as I can, so stick with me**





	Attempting Sanity

Prompt a Day #1

There was a slight frost sitting on the ground despite it being late May. Cas stared out at the horizon, silent and brooding. Sam had himself holed up in his room and hadn’t made an appearance in days except to eat and use the bathroom.

They had lost a lot in the last year. Kevin was gone; killed by the very angel Dean had allowed into Sam’s body. The same angel who had allowed the serpent into Eden all those centuries ago.

And Dean? Cas couldn’t bear the thought of his beloved hunter turned into the very thing he had hated most. Neither Cas nor Sam knew where the newfound demon was, and in a strange way, Cas was relieved at that.

Seeing Dean’s true face in this form would be torture. And knowing that they currently had no way to cure him was worse. Who knew if the demon cure truly worked? Sam hadn’t succeeded in reverting Crowley, but he had also been interrupted during the process.

And Crowley had become addicted to human blood.

It was likely that Dean could not be cured at all.

Cas frowned deeply at the predicament they were currently in. It seemed there was never rest for the boys or himself. It was always something. Whether it was Lucifer, or Leviathan, there was always something else to be taken care of.

Never peace.

A new enemy was always lurking just around the corner. Just beyond the horizon.

Cas gave a small sigh and raised his eyes to the heavens. “Father, if ever there was a time I truly needed you, it is now. Lend me your strength, please.” He closed his eyes as he finished and inhaled sharply.

The crisp morning air smelled of rain and honeysuckle. The sweetness made Cas’s heart skip a beat; it reminded him of Dean.

His hunter. How he missed the man (no, demon now, he was no longer human). Another wave of nausea hit Cas like a steamroller. Even despite his grace, he lurched forward and retched into the grass.

Quickly regaining his composure, Cas straightened up and cleaned the evidence of his mess with a snap of his fingers. Shame radiated through his being, it was a pathetic show of how weak he was.

He hadn’t been himself since Naomi, though he had done everything in his power to right his wrongs. Especially where Dean was involved (because of course his mind was always traveling back to Dean, no matter how hard he tried).

Castiel turned to the bunker door and went back inside without a single look behind him. The bunker was his home now, as much as it was Sam’s and Dean’s. Just as it had been Kevin’s. And many others before the Winchesters came into existence.

He settled himself in the library and stared blankly at the wall. He found no joy in reading (not after Metatron had transferred everything he’d ever read and seen into his mind). Watching a movie wasn’t exactly his thing either (not without Dean). And he had never been any good at drawing or painting, though he had enjoyed seeing the Sistine Chapel emerge before his eyes (especially because it had been Michelangelo of all artists, a sculptor by trade).

Using the computer was out of the question. Not only was he a complete moron when it came to technology, but that computer also belonged to Dean. It belonged to his hunter, and he had vowed never to use it unless given explicit permission from Dean himself.

And Sam’s computer was currently holed up in the room with the owner. And that was a fight for another long day yet to come. 

Despite having his grace back, he was still weak. He could hardly fly properly, not with the condition his feathers were once again in. Thankfully he had not reverted to plucking them from his wings, if only because Sam’s wrath would not be a treat for either of them. They should be looking for ways to cure the hunter, not worrying about their own feelings (repression was the Winchester way after all, and Cas was not about to break that tradition. Even if Sam was the more emotional one, it was still inappropriate). 

Cas felt a deep pang in his heart and gave a tentative sigh, scrubbing at his eyes. He was exhausted, though not because of his failing grace. He was exhausted because nothing ever seemed to go right for his family.

He heard footsteps and straightened to see Sam making his way to the kitchen. It was a rare sight for the hunter to emerge from his room (he must be especially hungry) and Cas wanted to take advantage of this moment. “Hello, Sam.” His greeting was as stiff as always, but Sam startled and whirled around in shock, as if he didn’t recognize the voice. Maybe after all those weeks of nothing, he didn’t recognize it.

“Castiel. Hey,” he said back. Cas couldn’t help but flinch at his full name coming from the taller man’s mouth. He hadn’t heard it in so long, it was foreign to him. The angel found he didn’t like the sound. “I’m just getting a drink,” Sam added, holding up a beer.

“Perhaps I could join you,” suggested Cas as casually as he could.

Sam snorted and raised his eyebrows. “I’ve seen you drink. You don’t get drunk, and that’s no fun.”

Cas deflated in his spot. “Besides, I don’t think we have too much left. It would kind of be a waste anyway.” Sam’s words were cruel in a way Cas knew the hunter was unaware of. They hit Cas hard, but he gave a nod in agreement. Sam walked past him without another word. Not even a pat on Cas’s shoulder signaled his departure.

Cas collapsed into one of the dining room chairs and rested his head on his arms. Sam’s words had left him with a steadily growing layer of frost in his mind.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just a short chapter to set the background and get the ball rolling. I won't lie, this story will hurt. A lot. And I'm sorry, but it's necessary, I promise.


End file.
